The backlit canvas in the middle of the small, darkened theatre drew the crowd’s attention to the shadow puppets displayed on it. Oil filled lamps provided the backlighting while making sputtering noises, creating an atmosphere not unlike the first black and white celluloid movies on earth. The shadows projected on the canvas gripped audience with the story I found all too familiar, since it related to me long time ago.
“Move out the way…boy! Do not get in the way of the Kusian Army.”
Roared a voice actor representing the enemy commander, a dark shadow puppet of a man on a horse. The multitude of many soldier shadows next to the commander representing his large army.
“I am Lord Goldcastle. You have invaded the kingdom of Aryonne and will go no further. I will not allow you to reach Draguilet if it is the last thing I do.”
Said the hero of the story, a lonesome shadow puppet of the man mounted on a lizard-like steed. I somehow recall the whole event being less melodramatic and more of some chore the king fobbed off onto me since he doubtlessly knew I could pull some rabbit out of a hat and deal with that army. I may have created that perception since I performed too many miracles like that before. So, there I sat there alone, facing the enemy commander, his engineer and ten thousand soldiers. Harry’s shadow puppeteers did a respectable job representing me by using an outlined cut-out to turn me into a white hero, although I never considered myself anything like a hero at the time. But at least they got my voice down-pat. “Your king must be a fool if he thinks you alone can stop us.”
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“My majesty has tasked his best warrior to halt your army. Lay down your arms, surrender now and you may still live to see tomorrow’s dawn.”
The mocking laughter of the shadow puppeteer echoed the laugher I received from the commander. Only the general and his engineer answered my challenge since the enemy soldiers couldn’t hear us, watching from some distance away as we traded the obligatory verbal blows.
“Then prepare to die, for nothing will stop the might of the Kusian Imperial Army.”
In response the hero shadow puppet raised his sword to the sky and shouted.
“You shall not pass!”
I confess that I may have slipped that in when relating my story to Harry. The shadow hero took the sword in his hand and pushed it into the ground causing the enemies shadow armies to tumble around amidst the rumbling noise of a background drum. Finally… silence ensued as someone blew artificial smoke across the shadow battlefield. The smoke was a touching effect, but naturally it didn’t happen like that. I dropped large heavy-metal cylinders on top of the army from miles up in the air. I wiped them out in a moment; they never stood a chance.
The show ended with the hero turning his back on the defeated army, silently riding away, and exiting the screen. The classic equivalent of the hero riding off into the sunset. I wasn’t that romantic. Technically, I opened a transdimentional gate and got myself the hell out of there before those flipping rods hit the ground, otherwise I might have been one of those dead soldiers.
Suddenly the audience erupted in applause, I was pleased to see they enjoyed the show. I decided to avoid attention and slipped through the back of the theatre before anyone noticed me.